I woke up exhausted – the winter light streaming in bleak and gray through my windows. After an intense week of training at work my head is full and waterlogged – fuzzy like I’m underwater.
The quiet, slow gray and snow are soothing to my raw, tired brain. I need the day off to rest.
Meeting girlfriends for breakfast, we sip hot tea out of white porcelain cups and talk about our weeks, our thoughts, and the things that have happened.
Somehow in the talking, the pouring it all out, we wake up a little, shovel off a few layers that have piled up on our hearts and start to make sense of all the questions and worries and life. When the words come out they begin to untangle everything – out over the table with someone to listen. And the joy starts to rise up, mixing and swirling like steam over the tea cups.
I love these girls, in their warm sweaters and soft necklaces, bending over the table with honesty and making jokes and listening and being kind and just sort of sitting there as they are. And I know one of them is starting to fall in love in the real, painful, scary sort of way, and the other one so beautiful with her kindness and hesitation and depth – talking about her friends and Serbian wine and how she knows that she needs to believe more.
I’m so thankful for them – so thankful for the real friends God has given me here. It’s a gift anywhere, but somehow Moscow makes it seem that much more precious and bright. I haven’t had friends like this for a long time. And they’re a new type of friend – smiling, quiet, talking about visa’s and trips to Europe and how it’s different in Russia, but God’s working anyway – they’re trying to figure it out just like I am.
And I’m just so thankful to just be here.